Death By Doves
by CommonSense
Summary: The twins get into a spot of trouble when one of their pranks sets off the fiery temper of another student. FredOC, Oneshot.


**Disclaimer** - I own Nicola, no one else.

**Summary** - The twins get into a spot of trouble when one of their pranks sets off the fiery temper of another student.

"Weasley!" A shout filled the hall as an angry Slytherin girl stormed toward a pair of red-headed twins.

Fred tried his best to look innocent, "What's wrong, Niki-kins?" Nicola Kingsley scowled, Fred and George had bewitched a mockingbird to follow her around all day, chirping loudly whenever she tried to talk. It was a quite the bother. No, that was an understatement, it was actually unbearably annoying.

"You know bloody well what's wrong! I had to flush that thing down Moaning Myrtle's toilet to get it to leave me alone!"

"You flushed it down the toilet?" George asked, his mouth falling open.

"Yes. That'll teach you for using me as a target for your stupid pranks." And with that, she turned on her heel and left, heading in the direction of the library. Fred, however, was not finished.

"Nicola, darling," he called out, looking hurt, "When have we ever used you as a target?"

Nicola turned to face him and snorted, "Well, let's see...Christmas. When you sent me that stupid anonymous present that charmed little bits of paper to fall around me like snow all day. Detention. When you made a bucket of water follow me around and splash water under my feet, so I kept falling all over the Trophy Room."

"Is that it?"

"No, actually. I have plenty more if you'd like to hear them."

"Well, that obviously isn't nearly enough," said Fred.

"Right you are, brother." continued George. Niki rolled her eyes and continued on her way to the library. She buried herself in a book on Potions, trying to forget about the twins.

* * *

Two days later, around six o'clock in the evening, Nicola found herself in detention once again. This time she had to help out Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing. She wouldn't have minded it so much, save for the fact that the Hospital Wing was enormous, and her sponge was not. 

She was just in the act of scrubbing the floor and listening, rather reluctantly, to a student's less than delightful encounter with Peeves when her sponge ripped itself out of her grip. It then began repeatedly beating her about the face, resulting in her becoming dripping wet with soapy water. This put Nicola in an even worse mood, but she tried her best to keep her composure. She sighed and charmed the sponge to cooperate, groaning as she realized she still had half the floor to clean. This same procedure happened at least five times before she was finished cleaning the floor.

When she finally exited the Hospital Wing, as ill-tempered as ever, she wasn't surprised to find a giggling pair of Weasley twins behind a tapestry not too far away. They saw her standing there, soaking wet, and laughed even harder.

"Oh it's funny, is it?" She glared and threw the sponge at Fred's laughing face, causing him to choke on the soapy water. "Hmph." And with that, she stormed off toward the Slytherin Common Room.

* * *

The next day at breakfast, the twins did it again. Nicola was reading the Daily Prophet and eating her eggs when the First Year boy sitting next to her gasped and pointed to her head. Confused, Nicola felt the top of her head and found that she had sprouted a rather short pair of horns. Fuming, she folded up the Prophet and stood, earning numerous stares and laughs from the other students as she made her way across the hall to the Gryffindor table. 

She bent down and whispered to the twins, "You'll get yours soon." And she walked as fast as she could out of the Great Hall, ignoring the stares from the other students.

* * *

It was about a week later, after several more pranks, that Nicola finally got her revenge. She had cornered the twins in a hallway after dinner, having waited until it was completely empty before threatening them, wand raised. 

Smirking with a maniacal sort of glare in her eyes, she pointed her wand at George and shouted, "Avis!" Several white doves flew out of the end of her wand and chased George down the corridor. Nicola then focused her attention on Fred. He merely waited patiently, apparently assuming that Nicola wasn't much of a threat. She sent him crashing to the ground with a wave of her wand and strolled toward him. She stood over him, brandishing her wand threateningly. Fred, however, didn't cower as she'd hoped he would. Instead, he grabbed the front of her robes and yanked her down to his level. The position she was now in was quite compromising. Nicola was involuntarily straddling Fred's midsection, pointing her wand, rather menacingly, at his face. Fred took advantage of this position and placed his hands on Nicola's thighs.

"Now, now, Niki-kins. You wouldn't want to harm my pretty face, would you?" he said, sitting up. Nicola stayed silent, still glaring and pointing her wand. Fred laughed and pushed her wand away from his face. She attempted to stand up, and regain control of the situation, but Fred pulled her back down.

"I rather thought you liked being the target for our jokes," he whispered in her ear, his hands sliding ever so slightly up her thighs, "I thought it gave you a rush. Don't you enjoy that?" When he finished speaking, Fred gave Nicola no time to respond, but instead brushed his lips against hers. He heard her sharp intake of breath and pressed on, gripping her waist and bringing her closer. Nicola was hesitant to return the kiss, but as she felt his tongue slide along her bottom lip, she melted and gave in. Deepening the kiss, Fred smiled against Nicola's soft, sweet lips as she dropped her forgotten wand and tangled her fingers in his trademark Weasley hair.

Somewhere in the castle, George was still being pecked to death by doves.

**A/N:**** I've revised this story so many times that I've lost count. I was just never satisfied with it. First it was too short, then it was too detailed, then it wasn't detailed enough, then I hated the ending, etc. However, now I am fully proud of my work and ready for criticism.**


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